What Happened at Weston
by puck's musings
Summary: Professor Michaelis wrestles with that funny feeling in his chest whenever Professor Sutcliff is around.


Sebastian Michaelis considered himself to be a reasonably tolerant man, if not more so than most of his colleagues, but there was one particular person who tried his patience more than anyone else he had ever met in his life. Grell Sutcliff, the bumbling home economics teacher at Weston College, managed to get on every single nerve in his body, but why or how he couldn't say. Maybe it was the way she always came to work dressed as though she was attending an opera later that night; he didn't think he'd even once seen her in jeans. Or maybe it was how she unashamedly flirted with him whenever he happened be trapped in the same room as she. Her crush on him was well-known among staff and students alike at Weston, and frankly, Sebastian found it highly inappropriate for her to be exhibiting such behavior at work. Her typical way of greeting him when they encountered each other in the hallways was to bat her eyelashes and blow him a kiss, and he was quite sure he'd felt her pat his backside on more than one occasion. Grell could certainly learn a thing or two about personal space and boundaries. Unfortunately, the rest of the school's population did not seem to share his distaste for her endless flirtations, and he'd had to chastise some of his students for saying what a lovely couple he and Grell would make. Sebastian had even sent Alois Trancy-one of his more "rambunctious" students, to phrase it delicately-to the office of Vice Principal Spears after the boy had written an extremely long, graphic poem entirely in Latin chronicling his and Grell's hypothetical sexcapades and given it to him. It had been, Sebastian had to bitterly admit, rather well-written, and it had pleased him to see that Alois had taken _something _away from his class, but his conscience had forced him to let Alois know he had not only crossed several boundaries but taken an Olympic-sized leap over them. Sebastian had kept the poem, however, and it was still tucked away deep inside one of his desk drawers. He'd saved it, of course, merely because it would've been a shame to throw away such an eloquent-if not highly erotic-piece of writing. At least, that was what he told himself.

Sebastian was so consumed by his thoughts he did not see the young man in front of him who was furiously mopping the floor and the two collided, collapsing to the ground.

"Bloody hell! Watch where you're going, bastard!"

Sebastian instantly recognized the voice as that of Ronald Knox, the school's caretaker, and repressed the urge to snap back: he didn't care much for Ronald's fondness for partying and overall apathetic attitude toward his own job, but as Ronald was currently dating Professor Spears-which had been the talk of the entire school for no less than three months-he decided he liked his job too much and kept his mouth shut.

"I'm terribly sorry Ronald, I didn't see you there. I was too caught up in my own head, I'm afraid," he said, standing up and offering a hand to Ronald, who still lay on the ground in an unsightly sprawl.

"Is that Sebastian Michaelis I hear? You're the last person I'd expect to be so wrapped up in his own brain he'd run right into a poor unsuspecting bloke like me. Can't imagine what's got ya this frazzled, seeing as you're always so calm and collected. Unlike the rest of the twats in this bloody school," Ronald added darkly, gripping Sebastian's hand and allowing Sebastian to pull him to his feet. Not wanting to set Ronald off on a rant about Weston and every person that walked its halls, Sebastian quickly diverted the subject back to their unfortunate collision.

"Yes, well, everyone has their off days, and I'm no exception, however composed you may find me. Again, I do apologize, Ronald. Something has been perturbing me all morning and I'm not sure what it is."

This was a complete lie. Sebastian knew exactly what was troubling him, and she wore lipstick as red as freshly spilt blood and heels that could, if wielded properly, be used as weapons of mass destruction.

"Oh. Well, hopefully you'll figure out what's bothering ya before ya plow another poor bastard over. Now if you'll excuse me, _sir_, I'd like to get back to cleaning this godforsaken school." Sebastian rolled his eyes but left Ronald to his duties and continued on his way to the classroom. He wondered what sort of ridiculous getup Grell would be dressed in today. Perhaps a scarlet gown with a plunging back like the one she'd worn last week, or maybe a knee-length crimson number. Would she be swimming in a scent that reminded him of freshly baked cupcakes or would she smell faintly of roses in the summertime?

Sebastian heard her before he saw her. The clack of heels on marble alerted him of a presence right behind him, but before he could turn around, Grell Sutcliff was already at his side and a wide grin was fixed on her face. Sebastian marveled at the rows of long, pointed teeth.

"Hello Sebastian," she purred, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder and gazing up at him through mascara-coated eyelashes.

"Hello Grell," he responded coolly, doing his best to ignore her flirtatious gesture.

"Are you feeling okay? You looked awfully tense from behind, you know."

Sebastian wasn't sure whether this was genuine concern or a not-so-subtle admittance that she'd been staring at his backside, but knowing Grell, it was probably the latter. He decided not to open that can of worms, however, and chose to ignore her last statement.

"I'm quite all right, Grell. I've just had a lot on my mind as of late."

His best tactic for fending off Grell's advances was to be terse with her: the less he said, the harder it would be for her to twist his words into some innuendo.

"I see. Well, if you ever feel like you need a reprieve, do drop by and pay me a visit, darling. Just seeing that handsome face of yours makes my whole day brighter."

She was leaning in close to him now, her vanilla-scented perfume attacking his nostrils.

He saw the lines of kohl traced over her eyelids, her green-gold eyes shining through even her glasses. No matter how vexing he found her coquettishness, Sebastian could not deny that Grell was very beautiful. Grell gave his robes a playful tug and flashed him one last toothy smile before sauntering off to her own classroom. As Sebastian watched her go, he felt an odd twinge of something in his chest, though he did everything in his power to suppress it.

_You big coward,_ a voice in his head snapped. _Too afraid to even admit to yourself you have feelings for her. _

Sebastian shook his head, desperate to rid himself of that nauseatingly sanctimonious voice, but its words continued to reverberate in his skull even when he reached the classroom, taunting him with the bitter truth. If it truly was only annoyance he felt towards Grell, he wouldn't find himself randomly thinking about her whenever he was blessed with a brief respite from work. Yes, Grell _did _have a tendency to irritate him until it was practically impossible to tolerate her, but he would be lying if he said she didn't also fascinate him. She marched to the beat of her own drum, unafraid to make waves or create a controversy. Sometimes Sebastian fancied she was not so much a woman as she was a force of nature, a scarlet tempest dead-set on destroying anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its path. Perhaps _this _was what he found so infuriating about her: she seemed unable to decide on a persona for herself. One day she would be schoolgirlishly sweet, the personification of strawberry shortcake. On others she played the part of the seductive temptress, in her six-inch stilettos and strapless red dress that was all kinds of inappropriate to wear in the workplace.

Sebastian seated himself at his desk, wanting more than anything to rid his mind of that scarlet coquette.


End file.
